


The Truth Has Got Its Boots On

by raisedbymoogles



Series: Robots Resist [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Current Events, Defection, Gen, information war, resist, shameless catharsisfic, underground resistance movement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedbymoogles/pseuds/raisedbymoogles
Summary: The Autobots and their allies shake something loose in DC, and prove that noteverybodyis still refusing to listen.





	The Truth Has Got Its Boots On

**Author's Note:**

> Megatron is apparently supplanting a certain human dictator in this 'verse. I honestly can't decide who'd be preferable from a human rights/survival standpoint, but at least Megatron is nicer to look at.

_”Well! I hate to say it, but Megatron’s little election hack actually worked. For once. We might pull this off after all.”_

_“Energon refinery: 81.5% complete. Decepticon resources spent: virtually zero.”_

_“Yes, the humans are practically begging to give us everything we want. -well, some of them are, hah!”_

_“Clarification: stupid humans with far too much power.”_

_“And when their world crumbles to dust around them, they’ll be just as dead as all the smart fleshbags currently screaming at them to pull their heads out of their exhaust pipes. Pity, that - the galaxy could use more useful dupes of that caliber.”_

_“Agreed.”_

_“Especially that ridiculous little dictator of theirs. What a charming idiot! Believes whatever you tell him as long as you look shiny and powerful enough, then turns around and blurts nonsense that his underlings have to scramble to take seriously. It’s hilarious. I’m so glad Megatron tapped me to play ambassador.”_

_“Observation: Starscream hates the human known as President.”_

_“Oh, absolutely. I can’t wait to squish the little creep. But I can still have my fun in the meantime. Aren’t you finished with that report yet, Soundwave?”_

_“Starscream: distracting.”_

_“Oh, fine!”_

_[THIS RECORDING BROUGHT TO YOU BY A TEENAGER WITH A CELL PHONE AND NO SENSE OF SELF-PRESERVATION. POSTED BY THE AUTOBOTS, WHO HAVEN’T GIVEN UP ON AMERICA. #RESIST.]_

“This video, released from multiple unregistered sources Tuesday morning, appears to feature Ambassador Starscream making a threat against the President’s life. The President himself leaped to the Ambassador’s defense on Twitter, tweeting late Tuesday night…”

Sunstreaker scoffed. _“That’s_ what they’re focusing on?”

“I don’t know,” Trailbreaker said thoughtfully. “At least they’re having to acknowledge it. It’s a start.”

The two of them were holding down the ends of the big couch in the back of the cave that served the in-hiding Autobots as a combination rec room and communications center, a bowl of nice crunchy batteries between them. They kept having to lean to one side or the other as ‘bots ducked in front of them on one errand or the other, muttered apologies and suspiciously fewer batteries left in their wake. Traffic in the rec room was always high when CNN was on these days. Used to be only As The Kitchen Sinks got that much draw.

They were all feeling a little foolish about that.

Not much could pull their attention from the excruciatingly slow trainwreck that was the American news cycle, but the entry and subsequent approach of the Bearer of the Matrix just about qualified. First Trailbreaker, then Sunstreaker glanced up to behold Optimus Prime bearing down on them at a measured pace. _I’m not mad,_ that unhurried stride said, _but there is no escape._ On his shoulder: Carly, looking fetching in a robins-egg blue sundress only somewhat smeared with engine grease, the skirt draped prettily over the Prime’s red armor.

“Ah- _hah.”_ Carly declared, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re the ones who raided my battery stash! Tell me you didn’t eat all the Ds.”

Trailbreaker at least had the grace to look abashed; Sunstreaker didn’t bother. “I can neither confirm nor deny,” he recited, holding the bowl up to them in inadequate apology. “Nor can I reveal my sources.”

“Shame, Sunstreaker,” Optimus Prime scolded gravely, taking the bowl and holding it up to Carly. Carly fearlessly leaned in, rummaging around for the coveted D batteries. “Raiding other people’s snack stockpiles. I’m very disappointed.”

“Not as disappointed as me. There were only two and a half packs left.” That got him The Look, and not even Sunstreaker could defy that. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll replace them next time I go on a wax run.”

“I’m sorry too,” Trailbreaker chimed in.

“Hmm. Are they forgiven, Carly?”

“Not unless I can find another - ah.” Carly withdrew her battery-full fist from the bowl, flush with victory. “That’s all I need. Okay, I guess you’re forgiven.” She stowed her regained prizes in the pocket of her sundress.

“Excellent.” Optimus pulled out a small handful of AAs for himself before passing the bowl back; wisely, neither Sunstreaker nor Trailbreaker commented. “Well, then,” he commented, turning to take in their choice of snack-break viewing. “What’s the status of our operation, gentlemechs?”

“That video of Starscream’s made it to every channel,” Trailbreaker reported.

“Every channel except the obvious,” Sunstreaker muttered.

“But no one’s really talking about how it’s all a con,” Trailbreaker continued. “It’s mostly focused on the squishing part. I don’t get it. Starscream practically spelled out the whole evil plot in that video.”

“Mmm.” Optimus turned his unimpressed gaze to the commentator on the screen. The commentator blithely kept talking. “Well, even if the traditional media outlets are failing their viewers,” Optimus mused, “that doesn’t mean no one’s talking about it. Carly, run a social media report. Keywords ‘Starscream,’ ‘election hack,’ and… hmm.” He tilted his helm, optics glimmering in grim amusement. “‘Charming idiot.’”

“Got it, boss.” Carly immediately pulled out her phone from the pocket that wasn’t full of batteries. “Want it on the big screen?”

“Please.”

Carly’s fingers flew, and Optimus watched quietly as CNN was exiled to the Top Left Corner Window of Shame in favor of a series of graphs. Beachcomber and Seaspray groaned in protest from their usual spot near the energon dispensers, but Sunstreaker and Trailbreaker just grabbed a battery each and crunched thoughtfully as Carly’s data-mining code did its work.

“A significant increase,” Optimus observed once Carly’s phone dinged to indicate it was finished. “Most promising. Divide by political affiliation?” Carly swiped right and a new graph came to the forefront. “…ah.”

“Are you serious?” Sunstreaker burst out, pointing accusingly at the graph that clearly showed no change from pre-video trends. “What’s it gonna take to change these people’s minds?”

“Are humans really so resistant to the idea that they might be wrong?” Trailbreaker wondered.

“Don’t ask me,” Carly sighed. “My fancypants liberal degree is in engineering, not sociology.”

Optimus just lowered his head and rumbled, his optics dark. The Autobots knew it was his ‘reworking my strategy’ face, but it looked so much like a ‘beaten down by the cruelty of the galaxy’ face that Carly patted Optimus’s shoulder where she sat and Trailbreaker hopefully held out the bowl of batteries to him. Optimus took another AA but didn’t slip it past his mask, only fiddled with it thoughtfully.

 _//Optimus Prime, you have a call from Washington DC.//_ Teletraan-1’s voice issued forth tinny and compressed from Optimus’s onboard communicator. _//The individual requests complete privacy.//_

“Does he now.” Optimus tilted his helm, surveying the room. Every Autobot in the room had gone quiet and still, oriented on their Prime. Trailbreaker made a zip-lips gesture across his mask as a show of faith. Carly made the Cybertronian equivalent: a hand cupped over her throat. Optimus nodded. “Patch him through, Teletraan,” he ordered, and Teletraan unquestioningly obeyed. “This is Optimus Prime. May I ask who is calling?”

 _“Uh. Hey there! Real honored to meet you. This is [name redacted], senator from [also redacted].”_ For a man with far too much power, the senator was clearly nervous, speaking in a rapid, hushed tone. _“I don’t have much time before my, uh, colleagues come back in, so I’ll make this quick - that video y’all released. Not, uh, CGI or anything, is it?”_

Sunstreaker lifted his hands in a wordless ‘lord what fools these carbon-based lifeforms be’; Carly was already Googling the senator’s name. “No, senator, I’m afraid it’s not,” Optimus replied calmly. “Why do you ask?”

A blustery sigh, rendered as mostly static over the connection. _“…look, I’ll be straight with you. I like my job. The hours are great, the pay’s not bad and the benefits are fantastic. But I don’t like it so much that I’m fine with handing my grandkids a shit briquette in a few years.”_ Carly paused mid-Google, eyebrows raised. _Bullshit,_ she mouthed. _“Is there some way we can… coordinate? ….I can get you an inside line on what’s going on in Congress,”_ he added quickly when Optimus didn’t answer right away, sounding like Swindle at his most desperate to make a sale. _“What do you say?”_

“Interesting,” Optimus mused aloud, tilting a sardonic optic his Autobots’ way. “Your voting record indicates you have voted along party lines for your entire political career, is that correct?”

_“Uh, well, I’m a proud conservative, so…”_

“The principles of conservativism require illegal and discriminatory redistricting efforts, do they?” Optimus answered severely, and the _click_ of the senator’s mouth shutting was clearly audible. “Listen to me very carefully. We can save this country and this world, but you must be willing to sabotage your own party - and vote accordingly.”

 _“But-”_ The senator actually sounded on the verge of hyperventilating. _“My donors! You don’t know what they’ll-”_

“The worst your donors can do is defund you,” Optimus interrupted, and that was his _titanium_ voice, the one he used on Decepticons he had at his mercy. “Megatron will do far worse - and I think you know that, or you would not have called me.” The senator audibly whimpered. “I will not guarantee you will sail through this crisis with all your wealth, prestige or connections intact, but perhaps…” The Prime’s tone warmed. “Perhaps we might be able to save your job.”

_“You think so?”_

“We’ll see what we can do. My agents will be in contact shortly. Try to lay low until then.” Optimus cut the connection and sighed, one hand covering Carly so she didn’t slip from his descending shoulder. “Well. That… certainly happened.”

“Nicely done, boss,” Sunstreaker commented. “Our first defector.”

“Hopefully not our last.” Optimus waited until Carly nodded to him before lowering his hand. “And of course, all credit belongs to our young videographer and media distributors. I was simply the one to secure the results of their labor.”

“Truth still matters,” Beachcomber wondered, barely audible to Optimus and Carly across the room. Seaspray patted his arm.

“I can’t believe we flipped a _senator_ ,” Trailbreaker enthused. “We might save Earth after all!”

“But…” Carly frowned at her phone. “Do we really have to save that bozo’s job?”

Optimus sighed again. “I’m afraid that may be the price we pay. No one wades into the political theater and emerges pristine.”

“Politics sucks slag,” Sunstreaker translated flatly, and at that even Optimus had to laugh and nod in agreement.


End file.
